


Nancarrow Christmas

by HarrogateBelmont



Series: Home for the Holidays [4]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Christmas Eve, Cornwall, F/M, Presents, St. Mawes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:15:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27532099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarrogateBelmont/pseuds/HarrogateBelmont
Summary: Robin spends Christmas with Strike and his extended family in St. Mawes. Will his sister embarrass him? Will his nephews be annoying? Anything is possible!
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Series: Home for the Holidays [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995508
Comments: 33
Kudos: 35





	1. A Gift for Greg

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as one long story, but decided to break it into chapters, and am now alarmed at how short they are. So I'll probably post in rapid succession. Also, fair warning, not a lot actually happens in this story. I just really like writing dialog and interactions between Robin and Strike. But hopefully it will be fluffy and enjoyable to read anyway.

Robin pulled into the parking lot at the Dart’s Farm marketplace in Topsham, and maneuvered Strike’s BMW into a spot. It was early on the day before Christmas, and despite all of their planning, Robin had been shocked to realize that Strike had neglected to account for a gift for his brother-in-law Greg. Or, rather, he had picked up a six-pack variety of seasonal beer, and Robin felt that their first joint gifts to his family should be a bit more substantial. Luckily, they had left London early in the morning, and were hoping to pick up a gift and some lunch before continuing on for the final part of their journey to St. Mawe’s.

“Does Greg golf?” Robin asked, shepherding Strike past the Fish Shed and inside the market, which was very large, and featured a number of smaller sections and boutique shops. 

“Er…” said Strike. “Dunno? Seems like the type.”

Robin looked at him, clearly appalled. “He’s been your brother-in-law for how long? Can you think of anything that he definitely enjoys, besides mediocre beer?”

Strike looked around the shop, and noticed a stand containing aprons and grilling supplies. “Grilling!” he said, triumphantly. “I have seen him grill.”

Robin identified a grilling set that contained tongs, a spatula, a scraper, a brush, a digital thermometer, and a number of other tools that were a mystery to Strike, all in a shiny carrying case. When the shop girl rang it up, it seemed like it cost more than Greg deserved, but Robin determinedly turned her back to Strike and shooed him away while she paid the bill.

After the most satisfying serving of fish and chips he’d ever eaten, they returned to his car, this time with him climbing into the driver’s seat, to finish the last leg of their journey.


	2. Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strike and Robin arrive in St. Mawes.

The drive from Topsham to St. Mawes was more pleasant than Strike had expected. The weather was cold and grey, but the lighting was warm and comforting, not ominous. It was a Wednesday, and he and Robin did not have any work to do - the agency typically stopped as much work as they could over the holidays - most people abandoned any suspicious behavior during this time anyway due to family obligations. Robin had stopped at the library and picked up half a dozen CDs to listen to on the drive, and she played DJ, and listened attentively as he pointed out various landmarks along the way. Strike had not driven home in quite a long time - it was a long drive to undertake alone, and he usually took advantage of the train. The last time he had been on these roads had been almost a year earlier, when he and Lucy had made their harrowing trip in wind and rain to see Aunt Joan as she lay dying. 

Dave Polworth had tipped them off to a friend who had a cottage that he rented out as an AirBnB, and they had negotiated a good price for the six nights that they would stay. It was around the corner from Uncle Ted’s house, and had a view of the sea. As they approached the village, Strike drove past Uncle Ted’s, noting Lucy’s car parked out front, and then continued around the corner.

“Might as well get our things settled,” said Strike, pulling into the little driveway. “Once we get inside Ted’s, it’ll be mayhem, and I guarantee that Lucy won’t give you a moment’s peace.”

The cottage was semi-detached, and had a door that could only be described as robin egg blue. Strike unlocked the door using the code provided, and they entered to find a wood floor painted the same shade of blue as the door with a rustic dining table and a small gas fireplace. The kitchen was very modern and bright. Polworth had warned him that there were quite a lot of steps, but compared to his attic apartment, this cottage felt like a holiday not just from London, but from staircases.

Robin had run upstairs to use the loo, and Strike followed her, depositing their bags in the main bedroom, and lying down on the plush bed that directly faced a window looking out onto the water. Hands behind his head, he stretched, and sighed contentedly at the view. The bed was comfortable, and not lumpy, and he wondered if several nights of deep sleep might improve his mood enough to be civil to his sister and her family throughout the entire holiday.

Robin appeared in the doorway. She smiled at him. “You look entirely too comfortable,” she said, approaching the bed. “What time did you tell your sister we’d be over?”

“Didn’t. She said to be there before dark,” he said, patting the bed next to him.

“It’s at least two hours until dark,” said Robin, kicking off her shoes and lying down as well. “I was going to ask you if you wanted to take a stroll to stretch our legs, after all that time in the car.”

Strike rolled onto his side, propping his head on one arm and wrapping the other around her waist. “Lots of time for walking later,” he said, reaching over to kiss her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s obvious that I am now desperate to go anywhere that requires an airplane and passport. The main reason I started writing this wasn’t so much for Strike and Robin as that I found this adorable [AirBnB in St. Mawe's](https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/29866878?s=67&unique_share_id=8d02f91d-603c-45a1-94cb-f619d8c9467a) that would be perfect for my family.
> 
> Also, I feel like I should have ended the chapter with - “insert smut here.” I've never really written it, but just imagine it happens. :)


	3. Here We Go

Strike and Robin left the cottage just as the grey light started to shift towards a more ash-like dusk. As they opened the boot of Strike’s BMW to survey the gifts that they had brought, they considered driving the block and a half to Ted’s house, but Robin procured two spare pillowcases from inside the cottage, and each filled a sack. Looking like misfit elves ejected from Santa’s workshop, they strolled down the street. As they turned the corner, Strike paused for a moment. Robin, got ahead of him by a few paces before she realized.

“What’s up?” she asked.

Strike shrugged. “Thank you,” he said. 

Robin smiled. “For what?” 

“For this,” said Strike. “I don’t know what counts for normal in your house, but I can’t promise that you’ll encounter anything like that here. Ted is a man of few words. Lucy more than makes up for it, but you never know what will come out of her mouth, and well, the boys... “

“Adam’s a prick and Luke’s a complete arsehole?”

“Yeah.”

“Strike. I have _three_ brothers. Only one of them is an actual, functioning adult. Nothing will shock me. And I’ve met Lucy. I’m looking forward to getting to know Ted. Let’s go.” She shifted the pillowcase to her other shoulder and held out her hand to him. Strike took it and they walked together into the house.


	4. Girl Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strike and Robin arrive at Ted's house.

Strike pushed the door open, and stepped inside. “Hello?” he said. He and Robin entered the tiny foyer, and proceeded into the front room, which was fairly dark. They could make out Ted, in the armchair, and Greg, on the sofa, both fast asleep. There were cooking smells coming from the kitchen, but otherwise, the house was surprisingly still. 

“Wonder where the boys are?” Strike said aloud. He put a finger over his lips, and motioned to Robin to drop the bag of gifts in the corner of the parlor, by the tree. Then he led her down a small flight of three stairs to the kitchen, where his sister, Lucy, looking a bit like a sorceress, was managing several bubbling pots on the stove and chopping vegetables at the same time.

“Hiya Lucy,” said Strike loudly, and Lucy jumped, screeched a little, and dropped the knife. 

“Stick!” she said with delight, coming over and giving him a hug. “And Robin! I’m so glad you’re here.” She hugged Robin as well, and then stood back to look at them both. She was wearing Joan’s old holiday apron, which was plastic and shiny and featured a large wreath and lots of holly. 

“Where’re the boys?” Robin asked, looking around. “It’s so quiet.”

“They’re upstairs,” said Lucy. “Ted doesn’t have Internet, but Greg caved and let them use his phone as a hotspot.” She waved her hand dismissively. “It used to bother me, but now I just enjoy the quiet. No real evidence that their brains are rotting.”

Robin laughed. Strike was surprised at this version of his sister. Laid-back Lucy was someone he had never encountered.

“Can we help with anything?” asked Robin, rolling up her sleeves as if getting ready to start cooking. 

“Oh no,” said Lucy. “You can all help with the washing up later, I hate that part. I’m worn out from cleaning. Ted won’t let me hire someone to come in every once in a while, and I have to tell you, his cleaning skills are quite rusty. I’m glad we came up yesterday. I’ve scoured everything, but it was disgusting, really.”

She reached into one of the cupboards and pulled out some mugs. “I can offer you tea, or some of this mulled wine I’ve been heating,” she said. “Sit with me a bit, and tell me everything.”

Strike felt his face grow warm. Robin smirked, and squeezed his hand. “Mulled wine would be lovely,” she said. Then she addressed Strike. “Why don’t you go sit in the front room and take a nap with the others. I’ll catch Lucy up.”

Strike nodded and stepped forward to open the fridge, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw a six-pack of beer inside. He grabbed one, and started to head back up the stairs when he stopped, and turned to face Robin and his sister.

“Er…” he said, not sure how to formulate the question.

Robin gave him a shove. “Go on,” she said. “I won’t say anything that will ruin your reputation as a tough guy.”


	5. Here Come the Boys

Robin had a pleasant half hour in the kitchen with Lucy. The mulled wine took the edge off of any remaining nerves, and Lucy’s obvious elation at this new development in Strike’s personal life provided quite an ego boost. 

“We all _hated_ Charlotte, you know,” Lucy had said, shaking her head. “No offense, but such a bitch.” Lucy paused. “She was very much like our mother. I don’t want to analyze things too much, but I’m so relieved Stick has come to his senses.”

There was no denying that Robin felt a little thrill at this declaration. The implication was that the family liked her. At the same time, Robin was not quite so used to being this much the center of attention. Her family had a tendency to avoid any level of personal interest in her life. “Tell me how he won you over,” said Lucy. “I’ve been married for fifteen years, I need to live vicariously through others,” she said with a sigh. 

So Robin told Lucy an abbreviated version of her birthday evening, and let Lucy smell her wrist, where the scent of a fresh application of Narciso still lingered. Lucy seemed absolutely incredulous that her brother was capable of anything romantic, and repeatedly interrupted Robin with _I don’t believe it_ , or _really_?

Eventually, they heard movement from above, and Greg poked his head into the kitchen. “Glad to see you’re awake,” said Lucy with a snort. “Can you please go tell the boys that Stick and Robin are here, and that dinner’s almost ready?”

Greg gave Robin a wave of welcome and disappeared back into the front room. “Go up and check on Stick and Ted,” said Lucy. "The boys will help me set the table.”

Upstairs, Robin found Strike and his uncle sitting opposite each other, looking so much like two sides of the same coin - one crisp and solid, the other worn and aged - that she had to do a double-take. Ted, whom she had met only briefly when Strike had shown him around the office a few weeks earlier during a visit to London, stood up slowly and wrapped her in a warm embrace. “We’re happy to have you here, at last,” he said, and motioned to Robin to sit next to Strike on the sofa. 

She had just sat down when they heard a great deal of noise from above. Jack was the first to emerge from the stairwell, and he bounded over to Strike with a big grin on his face. When he saw Robin sitting next to Strike, he stopped abruptly, standing in the middle of the room, and managed a nonchalant, “Hey Uncle Corm.” 

“Hiya Jack. You remember Robin?” Jack nodded, still looking awkward. 

“We’ve brought two large bags of presents, Jack,” said Robin. “We weren’t sure where to put them - can you point me in the right direction?” 

Still trying to act cool, Jack said, “Yeah, sure,” and followed Robin over to help her with the bags. He led her over to the modest tree in the other room, and helped her arrange the gifts according to the appropriate piles. As they were arranging, Jack’s younger brother, Adam, wandered into the room. Barely registering Robin’s presence, he headed straight for Jack and grabbed the present he was placing under the tree and began to shake it.

“Oi!” said Jack, reaching for it. “That’s not yours!”

Adam huffed, and then noticed Robin on the other side of the tree. “Who are you?” he demanded. 

“I’m Robin,” she said.

“Uncle Cormoran’s _girlfriend,_ ” said a voice, and a taller boy with his fringe falling fashionably across one eye strolled into the room. 

“Ewwww!” said Adam. 

Jack shot Adam a nasty look. “That’s not polite, Adam!” he said. 

Adam was now methodically picking up every package under the tree, one at a time, and shaking it slightly. Robin noticed that he never put them back in exactly the right place. 

Sitting back on his heels and sighing, Jack threw his hands in the air and said, “I give up. He’s impossible.” 

“You can’t talk about me like that,” said Adam. “Mum said.” 

Answering his brother, but looking at Strike, Jack said, “Dad says that he and his brother used to fight all the time. Did you argue with our mum?” 

“Nope,” said Strike, without stopping to consider. “We were too busy taking care of our mother to fight with each other.” Jack looked a little disappointed. Strike grinned. “We waited until we were adults to start fighting.” 

Jack laughed. Adam, bored with the wrapped presents, stomped out of the room. Robin squeezed Strike’s hand.


	6. Photographs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blast from the past...

The whole family sat around the large table in the kitchen to enjoy Lucy’s Christmas Eve dinner. It was the family custom to have fish pie on Christmas Eve, and then turkey on Christmas Day. Both Adam and Luke professed to be disgusted by the fish heads protruding out of the pie, but Jack enthusiastically took a piece. Robin noticed that Lucy had made a batch of sausages for her sons, and she smiled as Strike took one of those in addition to his pie. 

Conversation turned to Christmases past, and there were quite a few reminisces of Joan. At one point, Lucy teared up, but quickly composed herself, and Robin noticed Strike lay a comforting hand on Ted’s shoulder at one point, as he rose to pull a few more beers out of the refrigerator. 

Finally, when the main dishes had been cleared and the boys had once again disappeared to entertain themselves, the adults relaxed around the table, waiting for their food to digest before moving on to carry out the rest of the evening’s festivities.

“Robin,” said Lucy, with a wicked smile, “would you like to see some photographs of Cormoran when he was younger?” 

Strike’s eyes widened above the beer he was holding up to his mouth. “Lucy,” he said, warningly, “I don’t think that’s really necessary.” 

But Ted was telling Lucy where to look in the upstairs bedroom, and she was already out of her seat and headed out of the kitchen. She returned triumphantly a few minutes later, carrying three thick albums, covered in a fake burgundy leather with gold trim, and plonked them down in the middle of the table. 

“Isn’t it time to start singing carols or watch the telly or something?” said Strike, starting to stand. Robin reached out with one hand and pulled him back down. “Sit down, Scrooge,” she said. “This is a pivotal point in any relationship. I was going to go snooping on my own if no one offered to show me something like this. Anyway,” she pulled her hair back and grinned, “I already saw the photographs on top of the piano in the other room and I didn’t say anything.” 

It was hard to tell if Cormoran was blushing, but Robin could tell he was embarrassed. A number of photographs sat atop the upright piano in the parlor, including a portrait of Cormoran in his military uniform. Although Robin had seen similar photographs in the past, she was still shocked at how young and unlined Cormoran’s face appeared. But even better, there had been a studio portrait of Cormoran and Lucy, somewhere around the ages of 9 and 7, Cormoran’s hair an unruly and extremely voluminous dark halo around his head, while Lucy’s blond hair was feathered perfectly, her grin half-toothless. 

The photo albums failed to disappoint. The first one focused mostly on Ted and Joan’s early marriage, and Robin was once again amazed at how much Strike resembled his uncle. There were a few photographs of Strike’s mother, Leda, and Robin found it oddly intimate to see these - the only images she had seen of Leda had been publicity shots or paparazzi snaps on the Internet. Robin imagined she could see a resemblance there as well, Leda’s coloring was dark, and her features were strong. The second album, however, provided the most entertainment. Joan had obviously compiled the images, many of which were starting to fall out of their thin plastic sleeves. Strike on his first day of primary school, looking sulky. Lucy posing on the beach in her swimsuit, Strike staring moodily out towards the sea behind her, digging his heels in the sand. Strike holding a giant fish and grinning aboard Ted’s boat. Lucy helping Joan decorate a birthday cake. Leda, looking glamorous, hugging both of her children. 

Lucy sighed over the photographs, while Robin _awwwed_. Ted looked on with misty eyes, and Strike observed, half-attentive, and half-embarrassed. Greg glanced up occasionally from his phone; he appeared to be scrolling through the news. 

Adam bounded into the room. “Is it time?” he asked. “Is it? Is it time?”


	7. Holly-toe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke attempts a prank.

The Christmas Eve tradition in the Nancarrow house also involved cake and one gift for the children each before bed. Lucy put on the water for tea and pulled an impressive-looking Yule log out of the refrigerator. Robin helped set out the plates, and then they all headed back up to the parlor so that the boys could open their presents. Lucy had particular gifts selected for this evening, and proudly handed out three identical-looking packages to her sons. They turned out to be some sort of skateboard/scooter hybrid. The boys were delighted, and Lucy murmured to Robin, “Anything to get them off their screens and outside.” They immediately wanted to test them out, but Lucy told them they could assemble them but they’d have to wait until daylight to ride, and also that she’d brought their helmets with her in the car, which elicited a groan from all three of them. 

“I’m too old to wear a helmet!” Luke whined. 

“If he doesn't have to wear one, why do _I_ have to wear one?” Adam asked.

“I like mine,” said Jack. “It looks like a soldier’s helmet.” He shot a furtive glance at Cormoran, who flashed him a smile. Robin had an odd thought scurry into her consciousness, would Cormoran’s children look as like him as he did to his uncle? Would a child of theirs oddly end up looking like her brother Martin? She immediately pushed the thought to the back of her brain, and joined the others as they attempted to help the boys assemble their new toys.

“Right,” said Lucy. “It’s time for cake, and then, it’s time for some people in this house to get ready for bed.” She yawned. “Namely, me. Now, who will help me prepare the biscuits for Santa?” All three of her boys gave her a stare that indicated that they did not really expect Santa to be visiting that evening. “No? Not this year?” she smiled. “Well, that’s one thing off my list, then.” 

Lucy headed for the kitchen. “Uncle Cormoran, Robin!” said Luke, who had followed his mother towards the kitchen. “Have you seen this?” 

“What is it?” Cormoran asked, rising from the piano bench. Robin stood also, and they walked over to where Luke was standing, in the archway between the two spaces. 

“Gotcha!’ he yelled, and pointed up at the ceiling. A sprig of holly, obviously filched from one of Ted’s plastic Christmas decorations, was badly sellotaped to the ceiling, almost touching the top of Strike’s head.

“Got me what?” Strike asked, looking up. “That’s not even mistletoe! It’s holly you nutter.” 

Robin punched Strike on the arm, and Luke shrugged. He looked a little crestfallen that his prank had failed. Robin squinted up as well. She smiled at Strike. “I heard that the reason people don’t use holly is that you have to snog twice as long under it. That’s the rule.” She winked at Luke, who rolled his eyes, but also brightened. 

Strike bent down and, one hand around her waist and the other cupping her head, dipped her so that she gave a small shriek, and brought his lip down to hers. She could hear noises in the background - Adam’s “ _Gross_!” and Jack’s “ _Shut up_!” Luke seemed rendered speechless. 

Finally, they pulled apart. Luke had obviously been staring at them, but quickly averted his eyes. “That,” said Strike to Luke, “is how it’s done.” 

“Wait,” said Robin. “We’re not done. You forgot the other rule of holly.” 

“What’s that?” Strike asked, looking hopeful.

Robin winked. “You’ve got to kiss everyone in the room!” And with that, she made to chase after Luke, who stood for a moment, shocked, before yelling, “You can’t catch me!” and bounding into the other room.


	8. Friends?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucy channels Joan.

Strike strolled into the kitchen, just as Luke skidded to a halt behind his mother, and declared that the entire kitchen was a safe zone. Lucy, who had just been filling the teapot with water, nearly scalded herself, and looked about ready to chastise Luke, but Strike shot her a look, and she just laughed. 

“What’s all this about then?” Lucy asked, as Robin smoothed down her hair and fanned herself. 

Luke turned red, and moved to go sit at the table. “Nothing,” he murmured. 

“Just a bit of fun,” said Strike, winking at Luke. “Right?” 

Luke smiled, and Lucy beamed at her brother. “A little fun never hurt anyone, I suppose,” she said. Then, to Strike, in a very Joan-like declaration, “You and Luke will be friends, I know it.”

And as the rest of the family made their way into the kitchen to enjoy dessert, Strike felt that with Robin by his side, he could be friends with just about anyone.

**Author's Note:**

> I have been to Dart’s Farm numerous times and I love going there. The fish and chips at the Fish Shed are really delicious. I was super excited when I saw how easy it was to get to from the highway (I have always gone on a local train).


End file.
